


Don't Want To Go In

by iwasbotwp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ice Skating, Post-War, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22561792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasbotwp/pseuds/iwasbotwp
Summary: On a snowy afternoon, Fred and Hermione work to forget about the issues everyone is still dealing with after the war.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 65
Collections: What to do on a Snowy Day





	Don't Want To Go In

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Facebook group Weasleys, Witches, & Writers Snowy Day Fest. Many thanks to my beta RooOJoy.

Hand-in-hand, they skated across the frozen pond behind the Burrow, cheeks stained pink and eyes bright with joy. Wayward curls snuck out of Hermione's knit hat and Fred delighted in watching them float around her face. Barely speaking, both of them were comfortable with simply being outside in the gently falling snow together.

Once, Hermione slipped her hand free to do a slow turn and lazily skate backwards for a bit. While she did so, he raced as fast as he could to lap around the small pond and come up facing her, grinning at her look of concentration, before she gave up and turned forwards again.

“Prat,” she mumbled good-naturedly.

He shrugged. “You weren’t awful.”

“I’d like to see you do better.” 

He turned a figure eight, then came up next to her.

A little later, Fred was the one to let go of her hand when he stopped to pick up a thermos of hot cocoa sitting at the edge of the path from the house, offering a cup to Hermione.

“Spell worked perfectly,” he sighed, smacking his lips. “It’s still piping hot, but the marshmallows didn’t melt.”

Hermione leaned towards him, pulling on his scarf to get him to bend down. He happily obliged, letting her guide him into a chocolatey kiss. Playfully he bit her lower lip, and her answering gasp gave him the perfect entry for the tip of his tongue. Shifting, he wrapped an arm around her back and angled her to align their bodies until they were flush. 

The kiss deepened, tongues thrusting as their mouths moved in sync. He moaned, caught up in the moment as she tilted her face down, feathering soft kisses and nipping along his jaw. Her warm mouth was a contrast to her cold nose when it bumped against his cheek.

Humming, he pulled back, desperately needing to capture in his memory the beauty of this idyllic moment. Flakes fell from her snow-covered lashes when she blinked; once her eyes were open again he could see how her pupils were dilated. Swollen lips and a rapidly rising chest showed him she was just as affected as him.

For a moment, he contemplated reaching into his pocket for his wand and apparating them back to his flat. But it wasn’t often they had a chance at a day like this, so instead, he worked to calm his racing heart and asked, “How about a few more laps, then we should head in?”

“Only if you’ll race me once.” Not waiting for an answer, Hermione shot off, skates scraping on the hard surface as she fought to get a decent head start.

Unable to contain a laugh at her small cheat and yelling, “No fair!” Fred hurried to catch up.

Soon enough, they were holding hands again, slowly making their way back in a circle. The snow began to fall harder, the flakes getting larger and wetter. The charms on their clothes held up and both stayed relatively dry, but there was a bite to the air now as the sun began to sink towards the horizon.

“It’s getting late, we should go before your mum starts to worry,” she said in a tone that Fred recognized as not worth arguing with. “You know how she gets.”

He did. Even now, nine months after the end of the war, Molly didn’t do well with unexpected absences. If you said you were going to be somewhere at a certain time, then by Merlin you were there. 

There was a fear that had been building in Fred for some time now. A fear that his mum would never do well with absences. He didn’t know what that would mean when his dad eventually crossed the veil. Or just for something more immediate, like if Ginny got a spot on a professional Quidditch team after the end of this term. Even that might be too big a change for Mum, when she was used to her daughter being at school.

Gliding to a stop, once again next to the trail, the two of them transfigured their skates back into the boots they had walked down in. Fred picked up the thermos and started to walk, Hermione following behind him, stepping in the footprints they’d cut through the snow on their way down.

“Do you think she’ll be in one of her moods?” Hermione asked quietly, plainly meaning Molly, with an edge to her voice that hadn’t been present when they had been so carefree just a few minutes ago.

The Burrow was coming into view through the orchard, warm light spilling from the kitchen window. Fred slowed his steps and let Hermione come up beside him. He looked down into her warm chocolate eyes, the color just barely discernible from black in the low light of dusk.

A small smile slid onto her face, the kind that didn’t really light up her eyes, and she grabbed his hand, giving it a sharp squeeze. His throat tightened. They hadn’t spoken of his fear, but in that moment, he knew that Hermione willingly shared his burden.

How he had lucked out in winning her heart away from Ron, he wasn’t sure. She insisted her heart had never really belonged to his little brother, but Fred knew better. There were nights when he awoke, thinking this was a dream, only to find her tucked in beside him.

“Whether she’s in a good mood or not, we can’t avoid going in there. Because apparating back to either yours or mine before she sees we’re safe is guaranteed to put her in a right tizzy.”

Hermione sighed and nodded at his words. “Plus, I’ll need to help with dinner.”

“Maybe Dad’s in there—” Fred stopped speaking, because they both knew his dad would be sitting in the living room, reading the  _ Daily Prophet _ , or just staring into the fire, waiting for dinner to be ready, same as he did every night. It was a habit he didn’t seem capable of changing. Even if it meant starving.

“I see you two,” a voice called out from near the back door. “Come inside before you catch a cold.”

“Do you think she heard us?” Hermione whispered.

“No,” Fred whispered back, sounding more sure than he actually felt. “We’re far enough away.”

They trudged up the hill to the house, where Molly stood on the back stoop waiting, her hair in disarray and her clothes not what she would normally wear to a casual dinner with her family.

“Make sure you shake off as much snow as you can out here. I don’t want you tracking all of that into my house, leaving puddles for someone else to clean up later,” she berated the couple before they even had a chance to do what she was was worried they wouldn’t.

“Yes, Mum. Although you know I’ll be the one cleaning up any messes anyway,” Fred grumbled. “It’s not like George or Ron ever do it.”

“Don’t you give me that lip, young man!” She shook a finger at him. “George is still working through some things and just needs time. And Ron, well, he has so much on his shoulders.”

“We all have things, Mum! I bet Ron’s up in his room, doing nothing but listening to his wireless,” Fred snapped, his back going rigid. “And George isn’t working through anything that I haven’t already gone through. Why am I the only one you expect…”

The look of growing despair on his mum’s face and the yank on his hand from Hermione left him trailing off, not willing to finish.

“We’ll be right behind you Molly,” Hermione said with false-cheer. Fred looked down at her, wanting more than ever to take her away from this. She didn’t look up at him, but kept her eyes on Molly, a fake smile on her face that he knew his mum wouldn’t see the same way. “Just after we shake off the snow. And I’ll get dinner going with you.”

“I don’t know why you fight with her, she isn’t capable of changing,” Hermione whispered to him.

He turned his head back towards where the other woman had been standing, but realized that Molly couldn’t have heard that. Her ghost had already floated through the back door, waiting inside for them to come give her some semblance of the life she had known before.


End file.
